


They Don't Even Clean The Tables

by OpenHeart_WickedMind



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Breakfast, Epilogue, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Murder Husbands, On the Run, after WotL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenHeart_WickedMind/pseuds/OpenHeart_WickedMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little fic for the fannibal re-watch of Aperitif. Inspired by my my brain thinking how pissed Hannibal would be if Will made him eat at a greasy spoon. Inspired by an actual diner down the road from my house that's amazing. </p><p>This is absolute and total fluff.  </p><p>all my love to ItsyBitsyLemonSqueezy for just being all around amazing and editing this ridiculous story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Don't Even Clean The Tables

Will thought back to his first meal with Hannibal. Hannibal had shown up early in the morning in a neatly pressed bespoke suit while Will answered the door in a sleepy haze, wearing nothing but his underwear and a T-shirt. Now that he knew the man better, he had to wonder if the Doctor had planned his early arrival so he could see Will in some state of undress. The breakfast scramble Hannibal had spread out on a plate in front of him had been one of the best meals he'd eaten in a long while. Fresh spices and fluffy eggs, accompanied by a flavorful sausage Will had thought was pork at the time.

Will knew this meal would be a bit different.

Hannibal sat across from him on the uncomfortable red sculpted plywood seats of the booth. In front of him sat the menu, a three ring binder that held color pages that looked liked they'd been printed on a neglected home printer. Hannibal had yet to open it. 

"I know," Will said feeling a mix between amusement and sympathy, "I can order for you if you want."

The official story was that they were both presumed dead after falling into the Atlantic after their fight with Dolarhyde. The truth was Chiyo picked them up half dead on the beach and brought them to another location for them to recover. They’d left her as soon as they could and headed North by car. They'd tried to avoid main roads whenever possible which made choosing a place to eat breakfast, after driving for six hours straight, particularly difficult. Will had finally turned off the road into a small strip mall with a brightly lit “home cooked breakfast” sign in the window. Hannibal had tried to protest but Will had been too hungry to argue. 

The older man had finally cracked the menu and was slowly turning the pages over, touching as little of the plastic sleeve as possible. "Will, they didn't even clean the table off properly,” Hannibal said, his fingers flicking a stray crumb across the table, “I don't even want to think about the state of the kitchen." 

Will didn't hide the smirk on his face as he perused the menu. Hannibal had insisted on fine food the entire trip. Which meant leaving a few more bodies in their wake than Will had felt comfortable with. Leaving bodies behind them because Hannibal needed someone's kitchen to prepare some gourmet meal hadn't been Will's idea of a low profile. But, the truth was, he liked the hunt and he liked keeping Hannibal happy. But he wasn't above getting some joy out of Hannibal's distress in their current situation.

Hannibal sharply inhaled and Will saw one of his hands curl into a fist. Will knew what had caused that reaction. He looked up to confirm and chuckled. Hannibal had found this week’s special, funfetti pancakes. They'd been given a whole page with a full color spread. The pancakes were stacked high and covered with whipped cream and sprinkles. It came with a strawberry milk with whipped cream and sprinkles for only $2 extra.

"Hmm, looks good but I'm afraid you'll get a sugar coma and you're the one who has to drive for the next few hours."

Hannibal looked up at him, his nostrils flared as he tried to take in deep breaths to calm himself. "Will, please, is there anywhere else we could go? Somewhere that adheres to some of the health and safety codes."

"Not nearby," A thick New England accent cut into their conversation.

Will looked up to see their waitress standing beside their table looking at them with amusement. She had a bright colored tie dyed bandana holding back a mass of unruly curls. Her eye makeup matched her hair accessories and the color scheme continued all the way down to the neon crocks on her feet. At a quick glance, Linda, as her name tag said, could go for someone in their twenties. The only things betraying her age were the defined lines around her eyes and the salt and pepper color of her hair. 

Hannibal was quiet, no doubt trying to figure out a way to recover from the breach in etiquette.  
Linda laughed and filled the coffee mug in front of Will. "Don't worry about it handsome. I can tell a city mouse from a mile away. Ahh it ain't gourmet sweetie, but it'll get ya back on the road with a full stomach."

"That's exactly what we need," Will said, sipping the bitter coffee. He was surprised to see Hannibal gesture for Linda to fill his mug as well, knowing the black liquid would not match up to Hannibal's refined palate.

"I'll give you two a few more minutes," Linda said before scurrying away to tend to her other tables.

Will was a bit preoccupied with thoughts of the past as he flicked through the menu looking for something plain but filling. He'd be lying if he didn't say he'd been spoiled by Hannibal's cooking as well. But the diner was a nice change of pace and it reminded him of being on the road with his Dad.

"Memories come back to us at the strangest of times." Hannibal said. Will glanced up to find the other man observing him with an open look of fondness he hadn't quite gotten used to. He didn't ask what Hannibal meant. The man was in his mind as much as Will was in his. He closed his menu and slid his hand across the table to rest on Hannibal's.

"Not that strange. I've been in hundreds of places like this."

"What stands out?" Hannibal pushed his menu off to the side and rubbed his thumb against Will's knuckles.

"The company."

Hannibal smiled at him, slowly pulling his hand away and straightening in his chair. Linda appeared next to them placing cream and a cinnamon shaker near Hannibal. She winked at him.

"My daughter brings me back coffee from Costa Rica and POOF suddenly the stuff I've been drinking for years isn't palatable," she paused gesturing to the cinnamon, "this will help."

Hannibal looked genuinely pleased at the extra effort and Will had to suppress a laugh. They ordered their food, eggs and toast for Will and eggs Florentine for Hannibal.

"Eggs Florentine," Linda slid her notebook back into her apron and looked at Will, "Your hubby’s a little high maintenance..."

Will's mind was instantly taken over with images from nights before. Falling into bed with Hannibal had been natural. Some nights they clawed at each other desperate and needy, others were savored, their lovemaking lasting until dawn. They hadn't labeled their relationship, nor did they really need to, but Will was surprised how the thought of husband, the permanent bond between them both, just fit.

He reached across the table and took Hannibal's hand looking up at Linda, "You have no idea."  
Linda cackled and walked towards the large kitchen area at the back of the diner. Hannibal looked at him, his eyes wide and his body leaning forward to get closer to Will.

Will lifted the coffee mug to his lips with his free hand to hide his amusement. This was possibly the closest he would ever get to seeing Hannibal completely surprised.

"Will." There was a barely noticeable crack in Hannibal's voice as he slid his other hand on top of their already intertwined fingers.

Will put his mug down and looked into the eyes that had haunted his dreams for so long. "I'm fine with it if you are."

"Yes. I am."

For the rest of their meal they sat across from each other speaking about the next steps in their plan in quiet voices. Will noticed Hannibal’s efforts to link scenic locations in Europe with grand ceremonies in literature. He wasn’t really sure what kind of ceremony two felons on the run could have, but he’d be willing to do whatever made Hannibal happy. 

Later driving down a tree-lined back road, Hannibal remarked it was the best breakfast he'd ever had.


End file.
